


Popsicle

by Hanelli



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: ...okay maybe there were, Innuendoes everywhere, M/M, NSFW, no popsicles were harmed in the making of this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 08:42:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12453711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanelli/pseuds/Hanelli
Summary: When your boyfriend is good at getting you all hot and bothered, what do you do?...place a bet that you can do just as well as he can, of course!





	Popsicle

**Author's Note:**

> Done as a fill with the dialogue line "Wanna bet?" for spiritmoon23 on Tumblr. Rated as such due to references to certain elements.

“You can’t be serious, Vanya.”

“O-of course I am! H-how do you think… why must you have this much of an effect on me! How come I can’t do it like how you do it… t-to me?!” 

“Wanna bet, then? Wanna bet that you can also get me… _c’mon, big guy, you can’t be serious…_ you want me to bet on that, of all things?”

**“Of course.”**

Deep-purple met ocean blue for the briefest of moments, before one of the two looked away, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. It was a known fact between the two that Alfred always had a better idea of how to get his long-time boyfriend Ivan ‘hot and bothered’, but Ivan wanted to try to turn the tables. Well, at least try… if Alfred didn’t stop laughing at him every single time he tried!

“Are… you can’t really be serious about this, Vanya. You know that I can press your buttons in all the right ways, and you always have to get out of the room looking like something’s about to eat you alive. I mean…” the American trailed off, extremely mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Y-yes, Fedya. I am completely. Dead serious. About this,” Ivan countered, slamming both his hands on the table, as if to prove a point. “I-I mean, it… it can’t be you all the time who gets away with such… with such things in public!”

“Look, Vanya,” Alfred began, knowing that the long-standing argument was going to come up yet again, “…I’m the one who does it a thousand times better. _Like, I’m already stripping you just by looking at you,_ ” he trailed off, giving Ivan this very piercing gaze—one that the taller man knew all too well. This caused him to blush darkly, before quickly turning away.

_“Th-that’s not the point! I’ll prove it to you, then! That I can do things… just as… ah, er, ‘ **lewdly’** as you can!”_

“Fine, you’re on, then.” 

* * *

The two were out in Central Park the next day, off to catch some of the last rays of sun before the biting cold of winter set in. Ivan had gone over to Alfred’s New York apartment for a visit, but his time was running short—he knew he had to go back to Russia to deal with even more crap that was waiting for him. He dreaded the pile of paperwork that awaited him, but he couldn’t pass up the rare time he had not doing anything, which is why the two were here.

While Alfred had gone to claim one of his favorite benches to people-watch, Ivan had gone off to look for a wandering ice-cream man. It didn’t take too long for him to find one, and had eventually decided to surprise his boyfriend with a popsicle stick of his own. Of course, he’d made up his mind to get one for himself as well.

Thankfully there was an orange-flavored popsicle stick— _ **“It’s the damned last one of the bunch, you’re lucky you were able to get this,”**_ said the vendor before handing it to him—and he had unwrapped it from the plastic wrapper and was now staring at it.

Little did he know that the bet that they’d settled on yesterday would actually result in him winning, with what he was about to do.

* * *

All too soon he’d returned to see Alfred sitting ever-so-casually on the bench, both arms splayed out and his head tilted back to face the sky before he brought the cold wrapper of the chocolate-flavored popsicle to his boyfriend’s cheek, which earned him a surprised yelp in response.

 _“Got you something, eat it before it melts,”_ he said shortly, taking his seat on Alfred’s left side. While he pointedly ignored his boyfriend’s childish remarks about surprising him from out of nowhere, Ivan began working on his own popsicle. While he could hear the ripping noise coming from his right side before a grumbled muttering coming from his boyfriend’s direction, Ivan was pointedly ignoring him, slowly but surely working his way around the orange-flavored frozen treat.

At first, it had started with him lapping at the tip of the frozen treat, before noticing that it was starting to melt. Not wanting to waste the entire thing, he then tilted his head sideways, chasing the dripping parts of the popsicle, languidly licking back towards the top.

It then progressed to rotating the stick around in his hands, and he’d caught sight of another side of the treat melting, she he’d gone off to make sure the sticky drip wouldn’t land all over his fingers.

But how was he to realize that that’s what would happen?

Not content with licking one side clean, he then flipped it back to how he’d originally began working on it, keeping an eye on the dripping side—and it was at this point he’d caught sight of Alfred staring at him with his eyes wide, cheeks tinted a furious shade of red; his own chocolate-flavored frozen treat all but ignored.

“ _Chto?_ Fedya, you’re wasting your frozen stick…” he said in a nonchalant voice, before returning his attention to what he was doing. Not content with how he was working with the damned thing in his hands, he then quickly propped most of the orange-flavored treat in his mouth, leaving just a little bit of the bottom tip sticking out (along with the stick) before he’d started to suck on the thing, hollowing his cheeks in the process.

It was at this point Alfred all but tried to tear his gaze away from what Ivan was doing, who’d taken to pointedly ignoring the gaping stare he was now receiving as he then slowly began to pull out the treat that was in his mouth, before the American heard a soft, yet very distinct, popping noise as the entire thing then came out of his boyfriend’s mouth.

Unfortunately for Alfred, though, he could feel something stirring down south, and it was proving to be very distracting as Ivan continued to work at the melting tip, slowly but surely wearing it down to nothing before moving back down the length and then swallowing it entirely.

 _“…motherfucking hell, Vanya,”_ he heard a few moments later, his right-hand trembling with a melting chocolate-flavored treat and a very familiar tightening sensation growing in his jeans. _**“W-will you stop doing that?! I’m—”**_ he trailed off, catching sight of his own frozen treat melting in his hands. **“Oh, shit!”**

“Hm?” he countered, an innocent look crossing his own deep-purple gaze as he looked at his boyfriend, now frantically trying to clean the mess that was now streaking down his right hand, grumbling as he looked for something to wipe the mess down with—

—and before Alfred could even blink, Ivan had taken his own treat out, stick-first, before grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and then working on getting his hand cleaned up.

 _“Wh—V-Vanya?!”_ he heard Alfred suddenly hiss, quickly looking around to see if there were other people around. _“What the hell are you doing?!”_ he added a few moments later, looking down as he saw a head of ash-blonde hair raise his right hand to the other’s lips, and then giving one of the dripping trails a languid lick. 

Now, Alfred would be lying if he didn’t immediately blurt out right then and there that he was getting turned on by what Ivan was doing, but his own eyes continued to dart around, looking to see if there would be people walking by where they sat. On Ivan’s end, he didn’t care if they were spotted as he continued to clean up Alfred’s hand, pale pink tongue slowly but surely tracing the sticky trails upward before eventually arriving at where his boyfriend’s melting frozen treat was still present.

The look on Alfred’s face was priceless.

* * *

“V-vanya…” he growled, unable to tear his gaze off of the Russian’s face, which now held a brief twinkling of amusement in it. “S-stop… n-not out here,” he added, his own warning was ignored before Ivan continued to lick at his fingers.

Never mind if the chocolate and orange flavors clashed on his taste buds, he was certainly having the time of his life, his own ears perked up for any sounds that were coming from the American. In turn, Alfred was now hissing as he tried to control himself—all too soon the familiar tight sensation in his jeans became too much to bear.

 ** _“D-don’t, w-wait, n-not out—”_** Alfred began, his own voice becoming breathy as he felt something wet suddenly splatter in his jeans, before he groaned—why did it have to happen now, of all places, right out in public as well?!

The look on Ivan’s face was absolutely diabolical as he came to a stop, which elicited a shudder from the American, who’d been completely unable to tear his gaze away from what his boyfriend was doing.

 _“Not out here in public?”_ were the only words that Ivan said, an absolutely wicked grin crossing his lips as he then turned his attention to the two popsicles in his hands. “Do you want me to continue, then?”

 _“C-continue w-what…”_ came the American’s reply, before Ivan took both of the popsicles into his mouth—driving Alfred completely crazy, at least internally.

“F-fuck, Vanya…” he hissed, unable to keep his eyes off the sight of the Russian, who was now working on finishing both of the frozen treats at the same time.

Why did he have to get completely turned on, right here?!

* * *

The lewd little show continued, Alfred self-consciously covering the tent in his jeans with his other hand as Ivan finished both of the frozen treats, giving the other completely erotic stares as he’d done so; the entire debacle ending with the Russian pulling out two wooden sticks as he’d demolished the remainder of what he’d bought for the both of them.

The popping noise then drew Alfred back to the present, before he let out a groan, which eventually became a breathy moan as he felt the hand covering his jeans get slick, and damp—why did he have to do it like that?!

 _“F-fucking hell, man… l-look what happened,”_ he grumbled a few moments later, realizing what had occurred.

 **“Do you want me to continue?”** he heard Ivan ask once more, a very devilish twinkle in his eyes.

 _“N-not here. C-c’mon, l-let’s go back to my apartment…”_ he trailed off, looking anywhere **but** at his boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, no popsicles were harmed in the making of this fic. Except the ones that Ivan consumed. *snorts*
> 
> Chto - What


End file.
